


la javanaise

by theformerone



Category: Naruto, The Shape of Water (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Anal Sex, M/M, Sexual Harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-30 18:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13957119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theformerone/pseuds/theformerone
Summary: Itachi had never thought anything more beautiful than the creature in the tank.





	la javanaise

**Author's Note:**

> has someone done this yet? if so or if not, forgive me. i couldn't get it out of my head once i thought of it.
> 
> it's not a perfect retelling, so please turn away if that's what you're expecting. eliza isn't exactly itachi, and kisame isn't exactly the asset. i'm doing my best to stay true to both of the source materials i'm pulling from. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it xx

  _J'avoue j'en ai bave pas vous mon amour_

 

His day begins with the alarm.  

He rises, removes his sleeping mask, eyes blearily adjusting to the lack of light. He needs glasses, he knows he does, but he can't quite afford them yet. He tugs on his robe, wrapping it firmly around his waist. Starts running a bath, sets eggs to boil, puts on a timer; he runs his fingers over his dining room table, the two chairs. He peers out the window at the world, alive with the night as he wakes up and prepares for work.  

He slides into the bath, lets the hot water wake him. His hands wander down to the fine black hair at his groin; his first touch shocks even him, and then he doesn't stop. When he finishes, he drains the bathtub and has a shower instead. 

He dresses, takes the eggs out of the boiling water, prepares a sandwich for himself and two sandwiches for Deidara and Sasori. He rolls up his paper lunch bag, locks the door behind him, and knocks on the door just across the hall. 

Sasori answers it with his dead morning eyes. Itachi holds up the plate laden with the sandwiches he made for the artists. 

"We'd be dead without you," Sasori says, his face not moving an inch.

Itachi doesn't take it personally; Sasori isn't quite human without a cup of coffee, and he's usually fighting his deadlines back with a stick for the companies that commission his puppets. 

He steps inside, leaving the plate on the coffee table. A storm of squawking welcomes him; Deidara's birds are jumping in their cages at the sight of him, some of them fluttering overhead since they've been let out for their exercise. 

"Oh for fucks sake," Deidara groans from his seat at his turntable. "Tsurugi, Suseri!"

The bright green and blue birds stop flying overhead and come to settle on Deidara's shoulders at his command. 

_"Has he moved since yesterday?"_ Itachi signs, cocking his head towards Deidara. 

Sasori snorts. 

"No. He's stuck on this thing for Stone Cold. They rejected his last piece. Said it didn't 'fit their image'."

"Image my ass," Deidara grumbles from his seat. "Those fuckers don't believe you're my cousin, that's the problem, yeah."

"Of course," Sasori says, eyebrow twitching. "It has nothing to do with the two kilns you obliterated. Or your drinking problem."

A hooked wooden tool flies through the air at Sasori, but one of the birds catches it, and gives a pleased screech as it returns it to Deidara. 

"Who fucking taught Mikoto fetch, yeah?" Deidara growls, turning his head over his shoulder. 

Itachi smiles, eyes peering over at the television. It's showing an old program, one from when he was a child. There are two people singing and dancing, laughing. 

"Shoo," Sasori says, eating one of the sandwiches Itachi brought for them. "You're going to be late."

_"Don't let him hurt himself,"_ Itachi signs, lips still quirked up in a smile. Sasori's gaze softens the smallest bit, and he gives Itachi a nod before he heads out to face the day. 

He leaves the apartments above the cinema, old Jiraiya pestering him about seeing a new release while his assistant Minato scrambles to fix the marquee to his boss's liking. Itachi lingers in a candy store; he nabs some salt water taffy because it's on sale, then darts back out to catch his bus. 

He dozes on the ride in to work, but he knows that Sasori is right, and that he's late so he jogs to make sure he gets in on time. When the elevator dings to let him know he's made it into the basement, he steps out and is immediately graced with the noise of the work day and a low, woman's voice calling his name. 

"Itachi," Konan snaps, holding up the line for him. "Itachi, let's go."

"This is bullshit," Hidan curses from a couple of places behind her. "He's fucking late, Konan, let him punch in late."

Konan doesn't even spare him a glance over her shoulder. 

"Mind your business, Hidan," she replies. "And your language."

Itachi hurries over to her, taking his card from her and punching in. They go and get dressed separately, then they're together, cleaning for the rest of the day. Konan is the only person in the whole facility who can speak sign, so despite the fact that she's a woman and he's a man, they've been permanently partnered to each other. 

She's good company; she's usually a quiet woman, very efficient. She prefers to finish her work quickly so she can take lunch early, and Itachi is much the same. Besides, he likes her. They've been working together for nearly thirteen years now, and sometimes he brings her a little plastic bag full of taffy, and she folds him origami roses and cranes and crows during their lunch break. 

"Kakashi," Konan says, voice low and irritated. "Trash goes in the trash cans. It's not my job to clean up after you."

The white haired janitor smiles sheepishly behind his hospital mask and scurries over to pick up the leftover mess that the other men haven't managed to clear yet. 

"Oh, Konan, you know me," he replies. "I'm very forgetful."

"Absolutely ridiculous," Konan mutters, starting to mop once Kakashi has cleared up part of the mess. 

Itachi peers at the lurid orange book sticking out of Kakashi's back pocket and gives him a thumbs up when the man turns around. Kakashi smiles back at him. 

"Now is not the time for fraternization," Yakushi sneers from behind his wide glasses. 

"Of course, sir," Konan pipes up, mopping more furiously. 

Itachi steers his own mop bucket away from where Konan is cleaning up. Behind him, the massive metal doors of the locked room open and a huge containment tank is steered inside. Itachi makes sure to keep himself out of the way, bemoaning the space where the wheeled container has gone through Konan's tidy mop strokes. 

The container is stopped near him. He ignores it, until he hears the sound of something like the ocean, pouring through his ears. It startles him. He turns, dark eyes peering down at the thick glass windows on the container. The sound comes again, but it's more specific now. Almost pointed. Like the ocean is calling to  _him_ from within. 

He drops his fingers on the glass, gives it a little tap to say, ' _Hello to you, too'._ He taps again when he doesn't hear the ocean call back. A hand, pale blue and larger than Itachi's own slams against the glass with a ferocity that makes him jump. 

"Itachi!" Konan calls, immediately coming to support him with a steadying hand on his back. "What on earth - ?"

"Alright, clear out, clear out," snaps Tenzou, one of the researchers in the facility. His face is stern as his eyes clip from Itachi and Konan to the other workers in the facility. "Sanitation workers, out. The rest of you, with me for the relocation."

"C'mon, Itachi," Konan says, guiding him towards his buggy, then steering him out of the room. 

She takes him down through the bathrooms on the lower level, skipping the cleaning they had to do in that room and getting on with assignments that were supposed to come later on. The motions of cleaning settle Itachi. 

Being a child in the middle of a war zone had given him terrible tremors. He hadn't been able to deal with them well as a child, or into his adulthood. When his family was lost to him in the fire - well, suffice to say it had gotten worse. If the lung damage from the fire hadn't stopped his speech, seeing his little brother's corpse burnt in his little bed certainly did. 

But cleaning, making something shine, the repetitive motions; they were soothing. They were easy (difficult of course, because of how often he had to do them), they were routine, they were safe. And Itachi liked safe. Even if it meant unclogging shit filled toilets. There were worse things in life than shit. 

Konan perches her chin on top of her mop and lets out a sigh. Itachi can barely see the swipe of make up beneath her lower lip where her piercing usually is.

" _What's wrong?_ " he asks. 

"Yahiko's a good man," Konan says, straining her mop before laying it back down on the tile. "But he's a pain."

Itachi gives her a little grin and a raised eyebrow. 

"Ever since his stomach surgery, he's been useless. Nagato comes by, tries to help cheer him up, but he won't have it."

_"How's your sex life?"_ he asks. 

Konan, typically very straight laced, gives him a blustering sigh. 

"Nonexistent," she replies. "And not for lack of trying."

Itachi looks up from where he's wiping down the bathroom sink. 

_"He doesn't get excited?"_

Konan gives a dainty shrug. 

"Only thing that excites him is what I put in front of him for dinner," she muses, mouth tilted in dissatisfaction. 

She rolls her eyes, then looks up. Her dissatisfaction becomes a grimace. 

"On the ceiling," she grumbles. "Of all places. The best minds in the nation, and none of them can aim. Is it really that difficult, Itachi?"

Itachi pretends to think about it for a long moment. It gets a scoff and then a happy laugh out of Konan, so it's a nice victory. She's opening her mouth to speak when the door opens. 

"Excuse us, sir," Konan says, cheerful mood immediately replaced by cool professionalism. 

"It's no trouble at all," the man says as he enters, nodding first at Konan and then at Itachi. "Please, go about your work."

"Itachi," Konan says, and Itachi steps out of the way so the man can get to the urinal. 

He's older, with an 'x' shaped scar on is chin. He's nicely dressed in a black suit that's all straight black lines. He leaves a long stick, like a billy club on the sink. The man washes his hands and Itachi wonders how in the world he's supposed to clean around the club. 

"Careful around that," the man says, pointing at the club. "That's a ROOT Five-nine-forty. It's a cattle prod with teeth."

Itachi nods, keeping his eyes away from the man. 

' _He's pissing,'_ Itachi thinks, ' _he's pissing and he's holding a conversation.'_

"I'm Shimura Danzou," the man says, "I'm working security."

"It's nice to meet you, sir," Konan replies. "I'm Konan, and this is Itachi."

"Good to meet you as well."

When the man, Danzou, zips up his pants, Itachi offers him a hand towel for when he finishes washing his hands. Danzou shakes his head and retrieves a box of candy from his pants pocket; Itachi recognizes the brand and reminds himself never to eat it again. 

"A man washes before or after attending to his needs," Danzou says wisely. "Doing both suggests a weakness in character. Keep that in mind, son."

Itachi nods, unsure of what else he should do. It's the strangest piece of advice he's ever received in his life. 

"Good to meet you, Konan, Itachi," Danzou says as he exits. "It was a pleasure talking with you both."

When he's gone, Konan and Itachi share a look. 

"You wash your hands after, don't you, Itachi?" she asks him, voice hard and serious. 

Itachi snorts, his laugh bubbling up in his throat. Konan smirks at him and continues mopping. Itachi returns to mop down the countertops, but rears back a bit when he notices something. 

There's a drop of blood where Danzou's cattle prod once lay.  

"I hate skeevy old men like him," Konan says below her breath once they finish the bathroom. 

_"He was pretty weird,"_ he replies, agreeing with her. 

They drop off their carts and head to the canteen to eat. Itachi nabs his paper bag lunch out of his locker, and Konan picks a hot meal from one of the cafeteria workers. He starts nibbling on her sandwich while she's in line, letting her chat to him with a half smile on his face. 

"I mean really," she mumbles. "No hands? Then he eats candy? There's something I don't like about that guy."

_"Lots of men don't wash afterwards._ "

"But who washes before?"

Itachi shrugs. 

_"Men with strong character?"_

It gets a little grin from Konan. She gets a bottle of water with her dinner, and turns out of the line so they can find somewhere to sit when they're accosted by Yakushi. 

"You two," he says, looking a little frazzled. "With me. Now."

Konan looks like following his orders is the last thing she wants to do.

"But sir," she returns, lifting her tray. 

"Now," Yakushi presses, turning away and walking briskly. 

Itachi shoves the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and offers Konan the other half. 

"You're a darling," she says, patting his shoulder affectionately as she begins to eat. 

They pick up their carts, following Yakushi down the winding halls until they get back to the massive room they were booted out of earlier. Yakushi punches in his access code and the massive metal doors separate, revealing a pool of bright wet blood that eats up most of the floor. 

"You two have precisely twenty minutes to clean this up," Yakushi says, voice a little shaky. He turns on his heel and books it out of there. 

Konan narrows her eyes at his retreating back and goes about filling a bucket with water. 

"You alright, Itachi?" she asks. "You can wait outside, I can take care of this on my own."

He shakes his head. 

_"I'm okay, Konan,_ " he signs, eyes scanning the mess of blood on the floor.  _"Blood doesn't bother me so much."_

"Okay," she replies. "You let me know if that changes."

With that, she pours her filled bucket of water out over the floor to move the blood down towards the drains. It pushes the blood against the wall and back underneath a cabinet, and with the water and blood comes a pair of fingers. 

Itachi narrows his eyes at them, crouches down, and picks them up. They're still warm, and a little fake looking. He's seen severed limbs before, and almost tidily, he dissociates while he picks them up. 

"Itachi, what is that?" 

He shows them to her. Her pretty brow wrinkles. 

"Of course," she deadpans. "Do you have anything to - ?" 

Itachi tugs his paper lunch bag from his back pocket, and blows air into it to open it up. He dumps the two fingers inside. 

"I'll go get Yakushi," Konan says. "He'll need those for whatever idiot got his fingers cut off in here."

Itachi nods and watches as Konan goes. He rolls up the paper bag and heads back to his buggy, when the ocean sound pours into his ears again. He tilts his head towards it, towards where a glassy tank stands upright. 

He walks hesitantly towards it, and the ocean sound gets louder. He presses his hand against the cold glass, eyes narrowed. He really ought to get glasses. 

There's a shadow, a vague shape of something that gets more and more focused until another hand, a blue hand, is pressed against the glass on top of Itachi's. His breath stops in his throat. There is a creature in the tank, with blue skin and sharp white eyes. There are thick gills on its neck and below its eyes. It is well muscled, easily several heads taller than Itachi. It's beautiful. 

Itachi taps a single finger against the glass. In the same breath, the doors behind him open and the creature darts away. 

"Where are the body parts?" Yakushi asks, voice hard. 

Itachi turns over his shoulder, and holds up his brown paper bag.    

 

 

_Avant d'avoir eu vent de vous mon amour_

"A mermaid, yeah?" Deidara asks.

"Have you started drinking Deidara's absinthe?" Sasori asks, running his finger over Suseri's little head. "I left it with you because I thought you were responsible."

_"It was definitely a mermaid."_

"I thought I saw a mermaid once when I was a kid," Deidara muses, pounding a functional looking clay bowl into a ball of wet brown nothing. "It was a monkey's head sewn to a fish's ass."

"This is probably classified information," Sasori continues, even as Suseri screeches. "There's a war going on. You shouldn't tell us everything." 

Itachi purses his lips; that's fair. Deidara and Sasori were both refugees as children, and though they were legal citizens, it wouldn't be the first time people who were essentially harmless were targeted for being foreign born. 

"Tell your mermaid we said hello," Sasori says lightly as Itachi leaves for work. 

"Tell him I said to stop being so fucking creepy, yeah!" Deidara shouts, Mikoto screeching as his owner does. 

Itachi mulls it over in his head, the extra boiled eggs in his lunch bag weighing heavy as he does. He snags a sushi lunch from the cafeteria when he and Konan have lunch, and he eats everything aside from the sashimi. 

"Big appetite," Konan says, lifting her eyebrow. 

Itachi gives a shrug. 

_"I'm a growing boy."_

She snorts as they finish eating, then waves at him to stand. 

"Let's go," she says. "Shimura wants to see us, remember?"

Itachi nods, carefully tucking the sashimi next to the boiled eggs in his lunch bag before he follows Konan to their carts and then to Shimura's office. It's Konan who knocks on the door when they reach the top of the stairs. Shimura waves them in; Itachi pulls out Konan's chair because his mother raised him to, even if it makes Konan roll her eyes. 

"Chitsujo Konan," Shimura says, eyes flickering over the two open files on his desk. "No maiden name?"

Itachi can feel it when she tenses. He purses his lips, aware from the cut of Shimura's suit that he's military. That Konan is a refugee from Amegakure, that she has this job legally, but it's not always comfortable to have people poking around in your past. 

"My parents died when I was young," she replies. "I didn't have a birth certificate because of the hospital bombings. And I was too young to remember my surname."

She says it clinically. Itachi's heart aches for her. 

"Lots of war orphans in Ame," Shimura muses, dark eyes tracking Konan's obvious discomfort. Itachi's skin begins to boil. "You picked your name when you got married."

"I did."

"Order," Shimura muses. "Everything has its proper place, as does every one. Is that something you believe, Konan?"

She swallows, jaw working as she tries not to grind her teeth. Itachi wants to reach for her hand but doesn't. Knows it would be unwelcome in this environment. 

"I do," she replies. 

Shimura smiles in an unpleasant way. 

"Then you and I will get along just fine," he says. He turns to Itachi's file, then his eyes flick up to catch Itachi's. "Uchiha."

The name, even though Itachi knows it's his - it makes his stomach burn. 

"Military family through and through," Shimura continues. "Both your parents were high ranking officials until a stray molotov through the window took their lives, and the life of their youngest son."

Konan doesn't reach for Itachi's hand either. He's immeasurably grateful. 

"My condolences," Shimura says, inclining his head just slightly. "I knew your father. He was a good man. But how does his son end up scraping gum off walls for a living?" 

Itachi begins to sign, and Konan interprets for him. 

"The support system for the families of fallen soldiers is not as effective as it once was," Konan says. "But I am happy here. My work is necessary."

Shimura's eyes narrow at Itachi's moving hands. Itachi doesn't falter for a moment; this man wouldn't be the first one uncomfortable or disgusted or worse by his speaking hands and silent mouth. 

"He deaf?" he asks Konan. 

" _I'm mute, sir,"_ Itachi says.  _"I can hear you._ "

Shimura hums at that, nodding at Konan as she translates. He sits down in his chair, popping open his box of candy and popping a green piece into his mouth. 

"You get in that room, you clean it, you tell no one what you see," Shimura says. "Understand?"

"Of course, sir."

"We all have our proper place," Shimura goes on. "And we stay in our places to maintain order. That thing in that tank? Is an affront. Do you know what an affront is, Konan?"

"Something offensive," she says, voice cold. 

"Exactly," Shimura says. "That thing is an affront to order. And it is my duty to maintain order by whatever means necessary. And it is your duty to follow my demands to the best of your capability, so that we can all maintain order together. Does that make sense?"

"Of course, sir."

Shimura smiles. 

"I'm glad we understand each other. Have a nice day, Itachi, Konan. You're both dismissed." 

"I really don't fucking like that guy," Konan says later, sucking down a cigarette Kakashi offers her while he, Hidan, and Anko suck down cigarettes as the laundry people load up their blue vans. 

"Watch your fucking language, princess," Hidan snaps, woefully unable to dodge as Konan slams her heel into his foot in retribution. 

Itachi takes a cigarette from Anko, knowing her menthols are more to his taste. His eyes flicker up to a security camera, and his hand falters as he hides the smoke behind his back. 

"Don't worry about that, Itachi," Anko says, lighting her cigarette off of Hidan's. "We tilt that thing up for our smoke breaks. Nobody ever even notices."

Itachi nods hesitantly, and lights his cigarette off Anko's.

"Shimura's a goddamn creep, isn't he?" she asks. 

Itachi smiles at her and gives her a little nod. 

" _You have no idea."_    

 

 

_Ne vous déplaise en dansant la Javanaise_

Konan has gone to refill their bottles of disinfectant. Itachi situates himself at the edge of the large pool in the room. He takes a boiled egg from his paper bag and a spoon, and when he hears the ocean sound, he starts cracking the shell. 

He continues and so does the sound. He doesn't look over his shoulder, even as the sound of rattling chains rings out in his ears. He finishes peeling the egg, tilting his head a little bit as he takes a bite. 

The creature has poked its head over the water; it has hair, or something like it. Dark blue, much darker than its skin. He blinks his white eyes a couple of times at Itachi, the gills on its cheeks fluttering as it does. 

Itachi chews thoughtfully on the bite of egg in his mouth before reaching into his bag for the plastic box containing the sashimi. He opens it slowly but leaves it in his lap. The smell of fish makes the creature curious. It pokes more of its head over the surface of the water until Itachi can see the whole of its face. It has a strong jawline, a square face. It's skin looks rough as sandpaper. 

Itachi reaches out the hand with the egg in it. The creature bares its teeth, gills fluttering with rage. 

Slowly, Itachi retracts his hand. He moves to stand just as slowly, placing the egg down where he had been sitting. Then, he removes the pieces of sashimi from the box and lays them down beside the egg. He puts all of his trash beside his foot, and with slow deliberate movements, he performs the sign for 'egg' over the egg, and 'salmon' over the pink sashimi. 

He picks up his trash and takes several steps back before turning away from the creature and getting to work cleaning. From over his shoulder, he can hear the sound of chains rattling. Then the sound of sniffing, and noisy chewing not too long after. 

Itachi smiles, and he mops.   

 

_Nous nous aimions le temps d'une chanson_  

He brings eggs and sashimi for days, money he usually would spend on candy for himself or Sasori or Deidara or Konan going towards expensive slices of raw fish or squid or whale. He brings his record player, he brings storybooks. He brings the dates he tears off his calendar in the morning and teaches the creature how to sign them. 

The creature is burly and curious. Despite his massive strength, he is gentle when he picks up pieces of cut fish to place in his mouth. When he signs, he moves with surety, always ready to ask questions about what a certain word means. He trills, low and happy in his throat when Itachi plays him free wheeling jazz records. He has a laugh, or something like it, huffing loudly in his chest.

His teeth are sharp, but he's capable of a smile. 

When Itachi teaches him the sign for 'shark', he grows excited, pointing at himself. 

 _"You are a shark?"_ Itachi asks. 

The creature shakes his head, making the sign for 'name' and 'shark' one after the other. 

_"Your name is shark?"_

The creature smiles at him, full of teeth and excited. He makes the sign for 'bad' then 'very bad' then 'very very bad shark'. 

 _"Very very bad? Evil? Evil thing? A demon?"_  

_"Demon! Demon shark!"_

_"Is that what your name means in my language?"_

_"Yes!"_

Itachi goes home, goes to the library, and picks out baby name books from all sorts of different countries. When he finds something about Kirigakure, he checks out the book, and returns to work with it hidden in his cart. 

 _"Are you from Mist Country? Kiri? There are many sharks there,"_ Itachi says. 

The creature nods, treading water in his tank. Itachi nods, producing the book from his cart. There are characters on it that the creature must recognize, because he trills in that happy way he does, ducking into the water and splashing loudly back out of it. 

Itachi steps narrowly out of the way to avoid getting wet. He flips to each page he has marked for boy, girl, and unisex names with meanings close to 'demon shark'. He does his best to sign them, but there's only so much the creature knows of language. 

Despite the immediate discomfort that comes with it, Itachi takes the creature's massive hand in his smaller one. It scrapes against him like sandpaper. It's cold and rough, but nevertheless, Itachi presses the hand to his throat. Carefully, taking breaks in between, Itachi uses his hoarse, barely there voice to eek out the names of Kirigakure. 

When his mouth stumbles over 'Kisame', the creature trills again, his sharp claws digging the barest bit into the back of Itachi's neck. He does his best to squash the immediate shiver of fear and desire that comes with the motion in favor of soaking in the creature's excitement. 

 _"Kisame,"_ Itachi signs, smiling at him. 

 _"Kisame,"_ he replies.  _"My name is Kisame."_  

_A votre avis qu'avons-nous vu de l'amour_

He wakes with his alarm, dresses, prepares for the day. He doesn't boil eggs, but he does carefully slice the salmon he picked up from the market two days prior, wrapping it in cling wrap and dropping it into his lunch bag as his bathtub fills. 

 

When he reaches down to touch himself, he can feel the ghost of clawed fingers scraping at the back of his neck. The surprise of feeling that where he hadn't expected it makes him jerk up into his own palm. Softly he whines, and with his spare hand, he works a finger into himself, the pad of his finger brushing against a tight bundle of nerves. He almost cries when he comes. 

"You know," Sasori says as Deidara carefully begins painting one of his pieces, a dragon rising. "They made corn flakes to curb masturbation."

Itachi's spoon stops halfway to his mouth. Sasori quirks an eyebrow, winding string for his puppets around his fingers. 

"Didn't work," Sasori says. "Obviously."

Itachi doesn't flush red. He rolls his eyes, points at the sandwiches he left for the lovers, and leaves for work. 

He sneaks into Kisame's tank the way he always does while Konan is restocking their carts. He heads in to leave the salmon he cut that morning, hoping Kisame has an appetite. What he finds instead is Kisame chained down to the floor, bleeding heavily from a wound at his shoulder. 

Itachi doesn't have to think about running to him. Kisame keens low in his throat, a hollow, pained sound. Itachi presses his hand to Kisame's face, and Kisame leans into the touch. He looks at the wound on Kisame's shoulder, bleeding slowly. Itachi's stomach suddenly hurts; usually he's fine around blood but now - now he doesn't feel well. 

Itachi yanks at the chains once, trying to see if there's any give, but there's none. Behind him, he can hear the sound of the doors opening. He presses his hand again to Kisame's face, and snatches up his paper bag before darting away to hide. 

"Oh don't look at me like that, you ugly son of a bitch," comes a low, mean voice.

Itachi peers around the large cabinet to see Shimura wielding his cattle prod with teeth, his other hand settled squarely on his hip. 

"I hate that sound you make," Shimura says. "Are you in pain? Or are you angry? Bet you'd like to take another bite, wouldn't you?"

Kisame lashes out with his angry teeth, and Shimura stabs him with the cattle prod. He keens again, loudly, and Itachi's heart clenches hard in his chest. It's the sorriest sound Itachi has ever heard in his life. 

The doors open a second time, and Kisame's noise of pain goes off into silence. 

"Sarutobi, good to see you," Shimura says. 

"Likewise, Shimura, likewise," Sarutobi says. "This the creature?"

"Yes it is," Shimura says. "Dragged it kicking and screaming from Kirigakure for your viewing pleasure."

"Oh it will be, once we use it to get an upper hand on Kumogakure."

"Now how do you suppose we do that?"

"Vivisection, Sarutobi, plain and simple."

"Excuse me, sir," comes Tenzou's voice, and that is a surprise to Itachi. He hardly has time to worry over Kisame being vivisected when there is another voice protesting it out loud. "I must protest. This creature - it's capable of language, of empathy. It has an appreciation of music -"

"And so do Kumo carpet bombers," Shimura says. 

"This creature," Tenzou presses, "is more valuable to us alive than dead. It, in essence, can switch between two completely different respiratory systems - "

"And so can a mudskipper."

"We will learn more of it from study," Tenzou continues. "X-rays, vision tests, and the like. All of these can - "

"The asset has a double plated ribcage that makes any X-ray inconclusive," Shimura interrupts, tilting his head to the side. "Make no mistake, Sarutobi, we need to cut this thing open to understand how it works."

Itachi's heart is pounding in his chest. 

"He's losing consciousness," Tenzou murmurs. "What's this wound?" 

"The asset is violent," Shimura says blithely. "It responds to violence in kind."

"Sarutobi, sir, please. We need to get him back in the tank."

Sarutobi must give his permission, because then Tenzou is calling other workers to help him get Kisame out of his bonds and back into his tank. 

"Sir, by no means can you kill this creature."

Tenzou's voice is pleading, much too young for his grown up face. 

"I'll keep that in mind, son."

Despite the kind words, Itachi knows the promise is an empty one. 

_De vous a moi vous m'avez eu mon amour_

"You cannot be serious," Sasori says. 

"You want us to what?" Deidara asks, eyes narrowed. 

_"He's in pain. I need to get him out."_

The birds are strangely quiet. 

"It's a creature," Sasori says. "A mermaid. It's not your problem. And it's certainly not ours."

_"He's not a creature! He's a person! With thoughts, and feelings, and a name!"_

"You named it, Itachi," Deidara quips. 

Itachi shakes his head. 

_"That is his name, the name his mother gave him. He's from Kiri. He remembers his home, his family."_

"He's not -," Deidara groans, running his fingers through his long blond bangs. "You think we can afford to just - do some crazy shit like this? Me and Sasori?"

Itachi chews on his lip. 

_"I know I'm asking a lot of you -,"_

"Do you?" Sasori asks. "Because you know Deidara got fired because of this, and you know that if Jiraiya didn't have a reason to doubt we were cousins, we'd be on the street, too. Maybe even deported."

Back to Iwa, or to Suna. Back to war zones. Back to tragedy and blood and corpses littering the streets. 

" _When he looks at me, I understand the way you two look at each other."_

It makes Deidara suck in an angry breath. Sasori's expression doesn't change. 

_"He doesn't see my family name. He doesn't see a general's son cleaning toilets. He doesn't see what I lack. He sees me like no one ever has before. When he looks at me, he sees me as I am."_

"He?" Sasori asks. 

Itachi swallows around his unhappiness, blotchy and hot under his skin as he tries to make the only two people he trusts outside of Konan understand. 

_"He."_

Sasori looks over to Deidara. The ceramicist looks at the puppeteer for one long moment, before Deidara breaks the gaze and looks to Itachi. 

"What can we do, yeah?"

_Ne vous déplaise en dansant la Javanaise_

The day of, he's called into Shimura's office to clean up a spill. Itachi has a towel and a bucket in hand, and gets to work cleaning up the coffee on the floor. 

"You're mute, huh?" Shimura asks. "Totally silent?"

Itachi feels his blood cool in his veins. He isn't sure if he's afraid or if he's angry. It's a strange combination of both. 

"I bet you squawk sometimes, don't you?" 

Shimura crouches beside him, tilting his head a bit to get a better look at him. Itachi looks Shimura in the eye, anger winning over fear. 

"You look an awful lot like your mother," Shimura muses. "Even now that you're angry."

Itachi is sure his face is doing something godawful. Shimura reaches out, tucking a stray few hairs out of Itachi's face. 

"I bet I could make you squawk a little."

He rises so quickly his own head spins. He picks up his rag and his bucket and leaves the office with the broken pieces of coffee mug still scattered on the floor. Let someone Shimura didn't want to fuck clean up the mess; Itachi had plans. 

Plans that were almost too easy to execute, if he's being perfectly honest. 

He's tall, so the camera in the laundry room is easy to move. Sasori has forged the driver's license while Deidara painted the laundry service's logo onto the van. Itachi's gotten several towels wet with warm water and dumped into a laundry cart. All he needs now, bent over Kisame's chains with a bobby pin in his hand, is to get the man free. 

"Who are you working for?"

The question makes Itachi jump, but he's turned around, shielding Kisame with his body as Tenzou comes out of the shadows. 

"You're very clever," Tenzou says. "With the cameras and all."

He opens his hand where a ring of keys bounce from his fingers. 

"Take it," Tenzou says. And when Itachi does not move to do so, again he says, "Take it."

Itachi snatches the keys from his fingers and releases Kisame. He helps him as he staggers to his full height over to the basket full of towels. 

"You'll need this," Tenzou says, dropping a brown hat box into the basket. "Pour one cup into his water, along with at least a cup of - table salt. He'll need them both. High protein diet, though I suspect you already know that."

Itachi looks up at him to thank him, but Tenzou shakes his head. 

"Hurry," he says. "I can buy you five minutes. Go."

Itachi goes. He pushes Kisame's cart down the hallways through the light, and then the darkness only a handful of moments later. In the pitch dark, he moves faster. When he gets to the loading docks, Konan is there, amber eyes wide and angry. 

"Itachi," she says warningly. 

Itachi purses his lips, not giving an inch. 

"You better be sure about this," she says, coming forward. She grabs the other end of the cart and pulls as Sasori and Deidara pull up in their van. 

"I think we might've killed a guy, yeah," Deidara says, looking green as he opens the back. 

Sasori opens the other door, and Itachi throws the hat box Tenzou gave to him as Kisame rises. Sasori looks up at him and then back at Itachi. 

"Do you think he'd model for a puppet?" 

Then there are alarms blaring loudly, and Tenzou is dashing into the loading area. 

"Hurry!" he barks, and Itachi begins to hustle Kisame into the back of the van. 

Once they're safely inside, Konan and Tenzou dart back into the main building. The alarms screech as Deidara tries and fails to start the car, Sasori barking instructions at him as Itachi presses his hands against Kisame's rough skin, trying to soothe him. Then, there are gunshots, piercing the blue paint and metal of the van, and Deidara slams his foot on the gas, and they peel out into the early morning light. 

_Nous nous aimions le temps d'une chanson_

There's already a cool bath waiting for Kisame when they get him back into the apartment. Itachi remembers Tenzou's advice; he drops in a cup of the strange mix of herbs into the water, a long with a full cup of table salt. He mixes it with his hand as Sasori and Deidara ease Kisame into the tub. 

From his place in the bathtub, Kisame breathes easy then gives them all a great big smile as he signs,  _"Thank you."_

Deidara snorts and Sasori gives him a little smirk. Itachi leaves his hand in the water, and Kisame catches his fingers in his own clawed ones. 

"I'll go buy salt," Sasori says. 

"I'll get some fish," Deidara mumbles. 

Itachi would be a fool not to see the way Kisame has been shedding skin. It's obvious that despite Tenzou's best efforts with his mixture of herbs and salt, that Kisame is native to a different part of the world, and that is where he needs to return. 

He decides that in a weeks time, when the reservoir a handful of streets away from their apartment is full, he'll release Kisame to swim back to where he's from. 

For now, he boils Kisame eggs and gives him whole mackerel, which he eats excitedly. Itachi reads whole novels to him, tells him about the place where he's from. Kisame gets excited when Itachi brings him persimmons, explains that his family is named after them, because they flocked for birth and death in a grove that was overhung with persimmon trees. 

Konan rolls her eyes at him at work. Says, "Good. Keep that look on your face, like you don't know anything. No one will fall for it, but at least you're trying."

Itachi nearly runs home every day when he gets off the bus, leaping up the stairs two or three at a time. One day, he returns to find Kisame whining in displeasure in his bathtub, Itachi's front door wide open. There's blood on the little wall between their doors, and Itachi darts into Sasori and Deidara's apartment, well aware of who heals quickly and who does not. 

"I'm fucking fine, yeah," Deidara growls as Sasori tends the gash on his arm. 

There's blood on the floor, a mess of feathers on the floor. Itachi gives a little gasp, looking back to where Sasori is tending to his lover. 

"He ate Tsurugi and Mikoto," Sasori says blithely. "He's a wild animal. It's okay. Go and check on him."

Itachi nods, and darts into his own apartment, locking the door after him. 

He goes into the bathroom, and closes that door, too. Kisame looks visibly upset, and the water in the tub is cold. Carefully, Itachi moves towards him and drains the tub. He starts running warmer water, spooning salt and herbs into the tub as it fills. 

 _"I killed their friends,"_ Kisame says.  _"I didn't know. I'm sorry."_

Itachi gives him a little smile.

 _"It was an accident,"_ he replies.  _"They forgive you."_

Kisame shakes his head, toes splayed flat against the bottom of the tub. Itachi reaches out and lays his hand gently on Kisame's cheek, fingers just barely brushing against the gills beneath his eyes.

 _"They forgive you,"_ Itachi repeats. 

Kisame goes a little purple at the touch, something Itachi now knows is a blush. Kisame nods once, the warm water coming up around his ankles. Itachi takes his hand back to himself, preparing to stir the water around in the tub when Kisame's hand stops his.

His hand is massive, and wraps easily around Itachi's wrist. He looks at Kisame, brows furrowed in confusion. Kisame takes his hand and gently places it back on his face. Kisame puts his free hand on Itachi's cheek, cool and clammy against Itachi's dry skin.

They breathe like that for a little while, Itachi unsure of what to do. It's very clearly an important moment, something significant to Kisame and his people, and he doesn't want to offend him.

Kisame's hand dips down after a moment, down to the black button up he wears beneath his white jumpsuit for work. His clawed fingers nick at the warm skin beneath Itachi's tight collar.

Itachi's breath comes out of him in a rush of breath. He thinks immediately, to run, to leave. To step outside and calm his thundering heartbeat. But all he can hear is the sound of the ocean in his ears, and the running water, and their breath in the bathroom.

Itachi uses his free hand to undo the buttons of his shirt. He doesn't take his other hand off Kisame's cheek. Kisame's eyes go down over the newly exposed flesh, carefully cataloging Itachi's burn scars. 

The hand on Itachi's cheek travels down his throat, rests on his clavicle. The sharp claws are indescribably tender, not nicking his flesh, but dragging gently, raising red lines on Itachi's pale skin. His breath hitches when Kisame's claw scrapes over his nipple. Kisame's white eyes flicker up to Itachi's face and back down, before he repeats the motion.

Itachi lets out an involuntary moan, and is immediately grateful he's locked his front door. Kisame comes a little bit forward, but Itachi shakes his head and leans back. Kisame whines a little bit, but Itachi stands and removes his shirt, then his shoes, then his pants, then his underwear. He's already committed several felonies by breaking Kisame out of the facility. He might as well break a law of nature or two while he's at it. 

Kisame watches him the whole time, eyes tracing where his old scars start and stop, to the swell of his hardening cock nestled beneath a thatch of fine black hair. Itachi steps forward, feeling unbearably vulnerable, and he steps into the tub. 

He places his hand on Kisame's cheek, and Kisame returns the gesture. With his free hand, Kisame tugs him closer until he's sitting in Kisame's lap in the tub. Kisame lays his free hand open palmed against Itachi's back and lays his toothed mouth against Itachi's throat. 

Impossibly, because how could Kisame know how to kiss? How could he understand it, when he wasn't human, or shark, but something in between? He mouths along Itachi's throat, teeth gently grazing over a burn scar on his shoulder, claws digging a bit into Itachi's back as he does. Itachi's breath comes shallowly, and he wraps his legs around Kisame's back. 

Kisame's skin is rough all over, and it straddles a line between discomfort and pleasure when Itachi's cock presses against Kisame's sandpaper-like stomach. He moans at the friction, louder still when Kisame's hands travel down his back and up his throat. 

 It should frighten him, when Kisame draws blood, and he leaves his tongue over the wound. But it doesn't. 

Kisame pushes hims back, and with an absent hand, Itachi turns off the water. Itachi floats, and Kisame ducks his head beneath the water. When he takes Itachi's cock into his mouth, Itachi gasps, fingers immediately grabbing the edges of the bathtub for purchase. 

Kisame's teeth are careful of the sensitive skin; his jaw is wide and easy, and he sucks almost too softly to compensate for the danger of his own mouth. He draws his tongue over the thick vein on the underside of Itachi's cock, and Itachi keens. The warm water rises around his throat, soaking his long hair. Kisame's large hands hold Itachi by the hips, claws digging into the fragile skin there. 

When they nick him and blood seeps into the water, Kisame sucks on him hard. Itachi cries out, shuddering as Kisame laves his tongue over the slit, rising out of the water to separate Itachi's cheeks below, before diving again beneath. 

Kisame's tongue presses insistently against Itachi's hole, laving curiously over and over again until Itachi begins to tremble. He wraps one hand around himself, desperate for a little bit of purchase before Kisame's tongue presses inside. 

Itachi's toes curl up from where his feet are hooked around Kisame's shoulders. It's then that Itachi realizes that Kisame has gills on his face and on his throat, and that Kisame could eat at him forever because he could breathe underwater. The thought almost more than Kisame's tongue, gently fucking him, is enough to make Itachi flush red around the throat. 

Kisame's head breaks the surface of the water, and Itachi wonders what a sight he must make. He doesn't get a chance to ask; Kisame rises slowly, carefully keeping Itachi's legs over his shoulders as he does. 

 _"Yes?"_ Kisame asks, his own skin flushed purple and a bright fluorescent blue where his veins travel down his thick arms. 

 _"Yes,"_ Itachi answers, hand trembling as he makes the sign. 

Kisame presses forward, and it's only when a mound of bare flesh presses against his ass that Itachi remembers that Kisame doesn't - have external genitalia. He's about to uncurl his fist from his own cock to ask, when a dull pressure begins to nudge at his entrance.

His jaw doesn't drop and he doesn't grimace at the girth of it; Kisame is large, probably large enough to break Itachi's hips, but there must be something in his hormones, in the spit he left around Itachi's hole that makes the initial press inside a slide of easy, hard heat. When the whole of the tip is inside, Itachi almost wants to cry. 

The sandpaper feeling of Kisame's skin is dulled somewhat by his spit and the water, but Kisame is impossibly large and there's still so much more of him to fit inside. Itachi swallows, pain flickering up his spine. His hand shakes as he tries to sign to stop but Kisame presses his cheek into the hand that wants to sign, and presses his own hand to the side of Itachi's face. 

The pain disappears. What's left behind is a full feeling so intense it makes Itachi's mouth open in a quiet shriek of pleasure. 

He digs his fingers into the skin on Kisame's face, and Kisame presses in closer to him, bearing down as he slides more fully into Itachi. He's still for a moment while Itachi whimpers, moving inch by earth shattering inch. Itachi can feel himself quiver around Kisame's length, trying to take in more now that he knows he won't be hurt if he tries. 

It's good, terribly good, especially the way Kisame's sandpaper stomach brushes against Itachi's leaking cock while he settles himself fully inside of Itachi. Itachi takes a moment to breathe, unsettled and overcome, toes curling and pupils shot because Kisame hasn't even started moving yet. He waits, hand on Itachi's cheek while Itachi settles around his girth. 

With the hand not on Kisame's face, Itachi traces 'Go' onto Kisame's shoulder. Kisame smirks and slowly, he begins to move. 

Itachi can't  _see_. Kisame is huge and unyielding, pulling little by little out and pressing back in. Itachi mewls, throat bobbing with his want, fingers digging into Kisame's cheek to keep the pain away in favor of how good it feels to be fucked in gentle earnest. Kisame rocks his hips up, steadily moving faster, and then just a little faster still until water is slipping over the bathtub and onto the floor and Itachi's clothes. 

Itachi pants hard, lost between needing to be grounded and wanting to lose himself as Kisame fucks him. His eyes are wide open, and he can't help it when his fingernails leave a divot so deep in Kisame's cheek that a bit of blood dribbles over Itachi's nail. 

That does it for Kisame; he pulls out slow and long and easy, then presses down and shoves fiercely back into him. He does it again, and then again, and on the third time, he drops his mouth to Itachi's throat and _bites._

Itachi screams as he comes between his own chest and Kisame's. He clenches hard around Kisame, and the teeth dig the barest bit deeper into the juncture of his throat and neck as Kisame follows him, groaning as he comes inside of Itachi.

It feels like it lasts forever, like he's never going to come down, like he's going to stay there suspended between the water and the creature born of it, quivering in his orgasm. And maybe that's the way Kisame's cock seems to shift inside of him, shape minutely changing until he pulls out. 

Itachi groans as he does, and Kisame rubs slow circles onto his cheek to soothe the movement. 

He carefully moves Itachi, lifting him, and then laying Itachi's back against his own chest. Kisame nuzzles Itachi's temple and gives him a little squeeze. Itachi wonders if he should have done more research on shark anatomy; he catches a glimpse of Kisame's cock, discovers that its actually two slim ones. He blinks once at them as they disappear into the folds of Kisame's groin, and lays his head back against Kisame's chest. 

He'll think about that later. 

 _"Okay?"_ Kisame asks, _"You're not hurt?"_

Itachi shakes his head. 

 _"Not hurt,"_ he replies.  _"I feel good."_

 _"Good,"_ Kisame signs. He takes Itachi's hands and brushes his lips over them before releasing them.  _"I want to make you feel good."_

Itachi flushes a little bit at that, and lets himself smile a little bit.

" _Maybe later,"_ he says, amused at Kisame's chuckle. " _Maybe several times, later."_

_Nous nous aimions le temps d'une chanson_

Kisame takes to sleeping in bed with him, and spending his days in the tub or bothering Sasori and Deidara at their work. Sasori does a number of lovely charcoal sketches of Kisame, and Deidara makes a handful of figurines after his likeness. 

In the mornings, when Itachi comes into the bathroom to prepare for the day, Kisame is there to pull at his cock, to buck up into him with one of his clawed fingers that somehow manage never to tear at him. Itachi looks at himself in the mirror as Kisame's mouth descends to his throat, and he flushes later when he has to button up his shirts over Kisame's love bites. 

He notices, after a week or so, that the scars along his arms and torso are looking less and less severe. He peers at Kisame, where he carefully takes the shell off a boiled egg. 

 _"Did you do this?"_ Itachi asks, gesturing to the scars that he thought would never heal beyond ruined flesh. 

Kisame gives him a toothy smile.

" _I want to make you feel good,"_ Kisame says.  _"Feel better. Do you feel better?"_

Itachi crosses the space to the bathtub where Kisame sits, and presses his forehead against the other's. He kisses his gills lightly, something that always makes Kisame flush a little purple before pulling away. 

 _"I feel much better,"_ Itachi says. 

It only makes sense that after so much loveliness, the ugly would soon come after. 

Tenzou approaches him in the men's changing room, shoving a box of the same herbal combination in his hands. 

"Are you releasing him soon?" he asks, voice hushed. 

Itachi shoves the box into his locker, then gestures Tenzou to follow him to the women's changing room. Konan is the last woman inside, taking her piercing out. Itachi claps a couple of times to catch her attention, and her eyes narrow at him and Tenzou in the shadows. 

" _There are no cameras in the women's,"_ Itachi tells her, hoping for her patience. " _Tell him I'm letting Kisame go in another few days, when the rains come and fill the reservoir."_

Konan gives him a look before she does. Tenzou looks between the two of them, watching Itachi's hands before he listens to Konan as she translates. 

"Do it soon," Tenzou warns. "Shimura won't wait for the rains and neither will you."

Konan nods once, and sharply at that. 

"We'll keep that in mind."

Tenzou turns to leave, but Itachi stops him with a light hand at his shoulder. He signs the words carefully, hoping Tenzou will remember how they look in Itachi's hands, how much he means it when he says it. 

"What did he say?" Tenzou asks, looking from Itachi to Konan. 

"He said," Konan answers, voice going soft. "He said you're a good man, Dr. Tenzou."

Tenzou's mouth pinches a little bit, and he nods brusquely at the two of them. He looks like he wants to leave, but he keeps himself rooted to the spot. 

"My name is Yamato," Tenzou says. "Thank you."

He leaves. Itachi and Konan go about their work best as they can, their conversation with Tenzou - no, Yamato, hanging over their heads. When the cleaning staff are all called to Shimura's office, Itachi keeps his shoulders relaxed as he waits for his turn with Konan. 

"You two," Shimura says, "were off the premises before the incident?"

"Yes, sir," Konan replies. 

"And you saw nothing out of the ordinary?"

"No, sir."

"Any information," Shimura says, biting into a piece of his hard candy, "would greatly help our investigation. No detail is too trivial."

Konan turns to Itachi who eyes Shimura slyly as he signs his answer. 

"He didn't see anything that night either, sir," Konan interprets, "Important or trivial."

That makes Shimura sneer, and he rises to his feet in his rage. 

"Why the  _fuck_ am I interviewing the help?" he asks. "The shit cleaners. The gum scrapers. You're dismissed."

It's absolutely worth it, Itachi things, the way Shimura's face contorts with rage as he finger spells what he's wanted to say for months. 

" _Fuck you."_

_Hélas avril en vain me voue a l'amour_

"It's raining," Sasori muses, eyes tracking the clear skin of Itachi's newly unscarred arm. 

Kisame is perched beside Deidara, watching him as he makes a vase. 

Itachi nods, watching the two of them fondly as he sips at a mug of tea. He lets Sasori poke and prod at the arm. 

"He did the same thing to Deidara's wound," Sasori murmurs. "There are legends in Kiri, about water spirits. I suppose he is one of them."

The corners of Itachi's lips quirk up. The phone rings suddenly, and Sasori leaves to answer it. Deidara mutters softly to Kisame, showing him how to shape the clay, how to curve the neck of the vase, how to dig tools into it to bring out designs that are already there, but that the clay needs the sculptor's help to expose. 

"Itachi."

Sasori's voice is hard and he holds out the receiver for Itachi to take. Itachi crosses the room to get to him and places the phone to his ear, Sasori's tone surprisingly cold. 

"Itachi? Itachi, if you're there let me know you can hear me."

It's Konan's voice, sounding more rattled than Itachi has ever heard it in the years he's known her. He taps the receiver a couple of times and he hears her sigh. 

"Shimura - Shimura came here - I'm fine, Itachi, don't worry about me. But you need to get him out of there, tonight."

Itachi taps furiously at the receiver to let Konan know he's heard her, and he rears back up to his full height. Deidara and Kisame are watching him now, and Sasori carefully takes the phone from his hand before hanging up on Konan. 

"Sooner than expected," Sasori says, almost sounding sad. "But it can't be helped."

_J'avais envie de voir en vous cet amour_

They hurry him downstairs into the van, wrapping him up in blankets. It begins to rain, and then pour as Deidara drives. They reach the canal in record time, and it's pouring when Itachi helps Kisame out of the back of the van. 

"Good to meet you, Kisame," Sasori says, smiling at him. He nods once at Kisame, who nods back, before returning to the van and starting it. 

Deidara shows the clean skin of his arm, the one Kisame had scratched those days ago, and gives the merman a toothy grin. 

"You're alright," Deidara says. "Thanks for this."

Deidara returns to the van. And then, it's only the two of them. Itachi bites his lips, unsure of what to say. It's raining, pouring actually, and his vision is blurry but he can see Kisame at his full height, gorgeous and pale blue in the evening. 

" _Goodbye."_

It hurts to form the word. Kisame looks puzzled, shakes his head. 

" _You and me,"_ he says. " _Together."_

Itachi shakes his head, unable to find the words to say that he can't survive in Itachi's world. That there's a war going on, on land, and that's where Itachi lives while Kisame may swim in the waters surrounding Kiri. 

Instead, he says, " _No. You and me - Not together."_

"Fuck!"

Itachi turns in time to see Deidara go down. His nose is bleeding as he does. His eyes track from his blond friend on the ground to the man that put him there. 

Shimura, with a pistol firing. 

Pain blossoms from Itachi's gut and he falls, a breath exiting his body as he does. It hurts. It hurts so much, he can barely stand it. It's almost like the fire that took his parents and his little brother, but it's different because in the same breath Kisame is falling beside him. 

The rain bounces off Itachi's nose, and he can feel his vision fading. He reaches, fingers brushing against Kisame's fallen hand, then further, further up to the gills on his cheek. The pain doesn't go away, but Itachi didn't expect it to. 

He shuts his eyes counting Kisame's midnight blue eyelashes, wondering what a shark would need them for. 

_Nous vous déplaise en dansant la javanaise_

He wakes surrounded by water as cool as the rain that had chilled his cheeks. 

He can see. His vision is - it's perfect. Kisame is in front of him, his hands cradling Itachi's cheeks, brow furrowed in worry or concentration. Perhaps both. 

Itachi breathes. He can feel something funny on his cheeks, little moving flaps of skin. He reaches up to touch them, and exhales water from his strange new lungs. His hands move down to his throat, where a second pair of gills flutter as he adjusts to life underwater. 

Kisame floats in front of him, still cradling his face. Itachi reaches forward, hands traveling from Kisame's broad wrists up his arms, until his hands rest on Kisame's cheeks in turn. 

When he kisses him, Itachi shuts his eyes and listens to the sound of the ocean in his ears. 

_Nous nous aimions le temps d'une chanson_

**Author's Note:**

> according to the wiki, 'chitsujo' (meaning 'order') is konan's favorite word. i feel like if anyone was going to pick their married name, it would probably be her. also chitsujo konan and chitsujo yahiko are p cute names imo. 
> 
> my search history now includes 'shark tongue' for some reason. and 'shark penis'. i now know an astonishing amount about the way sharks fuck. the males literally do bite the females before depositing their sperm. nature is wild. c'est la vie.
> 
> comments are food for starving artists! thanks for reading xx


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